08:45 MEV Bridge

The door to the bridge opened and Patrice walked in. John turned to look and nodded. He was carrying a book, data slate, and his tablet. His right eye was twitching. He started to chuckle and knew instantly what was going on.

“I’m guessing you’re here to escape from the two idiots and not to relieve me?”

Patrice stared blankly at the bridge and sat down at one of the stations, “Holy shit. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were related.”

John laughed, “I think the most accurate description of Andern is white trash. That's ironic since he’s black. Dick is basically what, elitist white trash?”

“They are like oil and water,” Patrice took a deep breath and tried to get into a comfortable position to study, “And I don’t want to hear them sniping at each other anymore.”

For the next hour, the two didn’t speak much. John was relaxed as he guided the MEV toward the next waypoint. In truth there wasn’t much he had to do, the onboard virtual intelligence controlled the steering and throttle control based on the information John had programmed into it.

John leaned back in his seat and stretched his arms. He looked at his watch and he still had another hour left during his first stint on watch. Patrice closed his book loudly and walked over to the front viewing port and looked out at the surface of Luna.

“Grey as far as the eye can see. What do they expect us to find out here?”

“Fuck all,” John said laughing, “The whole point of this expedition is how we’ll get along with people in confined spaces, can we conserve resources, and can we follow orders. The archeology assignments will just have us dig holes that we later fill in, making a mess out of the area and our suits.”

“Thank god for the grav plates. Heard that regolith was irritating as all hell to the early explorers.”

“We have it good in many respects.”

Patrice turned around and looked at John, “Is it true you got assigned to the First Fleet?”

John nodded, “Yeah. Reporting to Admiral Dufresne who is based out of St. Mary’s station above Manchester. I believe I’ll be in the second reconnaissance wing. Shitty luck with that assignment if I’m being honest. You got assigned to it too, right?”

“Yeah, I’m not exactly sure what I’ll be doing but I’m on the Nova class battleship, Nebraska,” Patrice paused for a moment, “Hold, what do you mean shitty luck?”

“Big bastard. I haven’t received any ship assignment yet, but I’d be willing to be it's either going to be on an E-War frigate or support cruiser.”

“What about the shitty luck?”

“Oh, the crown princess and the royal family seem to want me to marry her. The fact that I’m already married, threatened to shoot her, and tore the palace up something awful didn’t really seem to make them care.”

Patrice laughed and looked back out at the moon’s surface, “What are your feelings on the best route to the captain’s chair?”

John cocked his head a bit, “Let’s assume that we’re referring to the two of us since we’ve demonstrated a capability of adjusting to our surroundings and are equally ambitious.”

Patrice smirked and turned around and nodded, “Fair assumption.”

“Being on a big ship means you’ll develop skills managing and delegating work for large numbers of people and departments. Effectively you get used to the bureaucracy that is unique to battlecruiser on up ships.”

“Why would anyone want a small ship captain to take over a big ship then?”

“Because all that captain knows is to manage the ship. Not how to fly it, maneuver it, attack with it. You aren’t really a ship’s captain,” John paused and leaned back, “The best route, in my opinion, is to serve on a big vessel until you’re an O-3, then get a transfer into a command role for a smaller ship to be a first or second officer.”

“But that’s not what you’re going to do is it?” Patrice asked.

“First chance I get full command of a frigate I’m jumping at it. Doable as an O-3 but more likely as an O-4.”

“You really think as a first lieutenant you’ll be in command?”

John nodded, “It’s not doable at all as a third-lieutenant unless all my superior officers ahead of me end up killed, which doesn't bode well for the ship. At second lieutenant it is possible but it’s not worth holding your breath over.”

Patrice chuckled to himself, “And my dad thinks I have delusions of grandeur.”

“Sometimes we need naysayers in our lives to get us that little extra motivation to move forward,” John smiled, “And some of us have more of them than others.”

The bridge got quiet again as Patrice thought about the things they talked about. John had to take manual control for a short while to guide the MEV around an outcrop that wasn’t in their original scans. Once safely around John reengaged the VI’s autopilot. He then amended the map and included the large rock formation.

Patrice then piped up and asked, “So are all the rumors about you true?”

John laughed, “Probably a not, but most probably have an element of truth to them.”

“That you are one of the richest men in the confederacy.”

“Not even close,” John paused as if he were adding up figures, “But were my career to end early I wouldn’t have to work an honest day’s work if I really didn’t want to.”

“How about the one that you were supposed to be a deep-cover mole?”

“It was presumed that I’d still report my findings to Intelligence had I not become diminished then I would have had dual loyalties I suppose. Not really sure how that would have worked out in practice.”

“Wait, diminished in what regard?”

John gave a confused looked to Patrice, “Hell, I thought it was common knowledge. I nearly killed myself last year when we were in Manchester. Kinda burned out the telepathic part of my brain. Seems like intelligence decided to cut bait and run earlier this year. The straw that broke the proverbial back was when they blamed me for their protection team getting killed when a pair of assassins came to kill me.”

“Fuck me,” Patrice stood their slack-jawed, “What haven’t you done?”

“Lived a clean and honest life,” John shot back immediately.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Homicidal maniacs don’t get to live freely for long. It’s best for them to either be put down, locked up or found a meaningful way to channel those energies for the greater good of the nation,” John gave off a pained smile, “I was lucky and slotted into the final option.”

“Damn man, that’s fucking disturbing and depressing.”

19:15 Sea of Tranquility – 10.5° North 34.5° West

The dig site was marked into thirty-six-two-square-foot dig zones. Andern was digging in more quickly than he should be. Richard was effectively doing the same thing, albeit just a bit more slowly. John was on the finishing steps of his third square. Patrice was well underway on the fourth square.

“So,

all I’m finding is dirt, more dirt, and then even more dirt,” Andern said as he looked at his three classmates.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much expected. But that’s why we’re exposing three feet to see if anything is actually there,” John said calmly.

“So why aren’t you hurrying up?” Richard asked.

“The instructions were clear. Clear it inch by inch,” Patrice said.

“When y’all are done you may as well clean up your dig sites,” John said as he ignored the impatience and continued the process inch by inch.

John and Patrice continued their methodical, yet by the books and slow, process. When they finished their squares, they replaced the regolith and rocks they dugout. Then headed back to the MEV. Patrice went in first. John was resting on the small porch at the back end of their vehicle, when the airlock door opened, he stepped inside.

The grave plates activated and all the regolith that was bouncing around the room was pulled to the floor. Gravimetric waves were used to guide the annoying dust into a collections tray which emptied itself before the atmosphere was pumped into the room. The reliquary turned on to take care of removing the armor plates and stowing them away.

An hour later the two were back in the MEV. It was Andern’s turn at the wheel. John was warming up his food. Richard and Patrice were already eating at the table. When the food was done John picked it up and set it down at the table.

“Did you really not bring any books with you?” Richard asked.

“Took care of all the reading and homework before we left,” John said in between bites of beef stew, “Was drunk for most of it though.”

“Must be rough,” Patrice said with a laugh.

“You have no idea. I caught so much hell for heading into the commercial zone ahead of everyone else.”

“That was a pretty solid first day. Tomorrow we travel all day,” Patrice said.

“Yeah, what could go wrong?” Richard said.

John set his spoon down and looked at him, “Dude, seriously don’t say that.”

“Why?”

Patrice joined in, “Yeah. He attracts shit. We don’t want that here. Being stranded out here would be pretty damned awful.”

“Anyways, what’s the plan for tonight?” Richard asked as he finished his meal.

“I’m driving in three hours, so going to get some shut-eye.”

John took a sip of water then leaned back, “Same, except I’m driving her in like what, nine hours?”

“Fuck me, may as well do the same if the two of you are going to bail on things.

Patrice slid out from the bench and walked over to the dishwasher. After cleaning he waived to the two and crawled into his bunk. Richard followed suit, though grumbled the whole time. John smiled at the similarities in personalities between the two. Besides the obvious rich douchebag attitude that Andern lacked, most of the rest were the same.

“Two peas in a pod,” John said to himself after finishing his meal.

After cleaning his dishes, he stretched for a bit then walked to the hallway door. Before going to bed he figured he’d check in with Andern for a while, if for no other reason than to verify that he was doing the right thing. He pressed the bridge door and walked in. Surprisingly to an attentive Andern.

“I swore you’d be asleep up here.”

Andern looked over and gave an indignant look back at John, “Come on, you really think I’d do that.”

John cocked an eyebrow, “Yes.”

“Ass, but fair,” Andern pressed some buttons and changed the course of the MEV, “So what’s up?”

John yawned, “About ready to get some rest. Figured I’d check-up and make sure things were in good hands. Which I’m happy to see they are. If you need anything…”

“Yeah yeah. I’ll let ya know. Already sent the drone ahead to scan our path ahead.”

“Nice work,” John slapped Andern’s shoulder, “Heading to bed.”

“Cya tomorrow.”

5:35 Sea of Tranquility – 115 Miles Northeast

John was sound asleep, was being the operative word. His alarm was set to go off in only fifteen minutes but waking up before an alarm always sucked. Doubly so when it was done through an urgent message.

“John, wake up. Need you up here ASAP,” there was a strong sense of urgency in Patrice’s voice.

John rolled over and looked at the headboard for the communications button, “Roger.”

He slid the door open and crawled out. He quickly slid his shoes on, grabbed his water bottle, then jogged up to the bridge. Andern and Richard were already there, with Andern looking particularly spooked.

“Take a look,” Richard said as he brought pictures of an MEV.

“Bullet holes, that’s surprising,” John said sarcastically as he stared at the images, “Any life signs?”

“I stopped our MEV out of the line of sight from the ridge over there,” Patrice said, “Long-range communications are also jammed.”

“Do we have any probes?” John asked.

“One. But take a look at the ground over here,” Andern said bringing up another screen.

“Wonderful, they fried the probe,” John looked deep in thought, “Can you connect to that probe?”

“Let me try,” Richard said, “Woah, yeah the tight beam is working. If I’m reading this right it was hit by an EMP that shut it down.”

“I’m getting in my armor. Add a message, onto whatever they sent in it. Where’s the hull repair kit?”

Patrice spun in his chair to look at John, “There’s two in the after airlock and one in the hallway airlock.”

“Get helmets and rebreathers on. Just in case. If they aren’t alive, then we don’t need to die because we got shot up.”

“I’m coming with you,” Andern said, “No, not till we know what’s going on. If I get shot at y’all are to turn this heap around and get clear of this shit show.”

“You can’t give me that order,” Patrice said.

“I mean, it’s not a bad plan,” Richard drew the eyes of everyone in the room, “What?”

“If I get pinned down you lot need to bring the message back to the powers that be. Don’t fire up their probe until I get to their MEV.”

Patrice and Andern looked at one another, they clearly weren’t on board with John’s plan. John walked out of the bridge before getting their confirmation. He hit the head really quick to relieve himself. Another stop at the sink was necessary to fill up a special water jug as he brought that with him to the airlock.

John set it on the reliquary and turned it on. It sprang to life and began assembling the armor and bolting it together on John. The intercom roared to life.

“How are you going to survive by yourself if you’re by your lonesome?”

“That MEV. Those bullet holes can be sealed. Unless the rounds did some serious damage in the ceiling, which it shouldn’t, but most of the electronics and vital systems are in the lower wall.”

“If you get hurt, Alice is going to be pissed with me,” Andern said bluntly.

“Yeah, she probably will,” the boot and leg plates were bolted in place, “She knows this is a risk that we all accepted. And she is keenly aware of my annoying habit of walking ass-backward into bullshit.”

The reliquary beeped and requested that John turn around so that the rear plate, arm plates, and pauldrons could be attached. When it was done bolting things into place a large thruster pack was attached. The reliquary let go of John and began to shut down itself. John picked up the battle rifle hanging on the wall and a spare magazine.

John dashed out of the airlock. When he landed on the regolith, he slowly changed his direction. When he was facing correctly the main thruster fired and rocketed him by their MEV. John was halfway to the damaged one when Richard came on his speakers.

“Tight beam communications seem to work with your suit too. You weren’t responding to the normal channels.”

“Good to know,” John said as he prepared to bunny hop and fire his thruster, “Damn, gotta time this shit right. I’m going to check the bridge first for signs of life.”

“Roger that. The probe is ready to launch again.”

“Hold off until I finish the cursory scan of the dead MEV.”

Andern jumped in, “Just an FYI, but her fusion drive is still on. Can only explain the temperatures we’re seeing.”

John made one more super bunny hop, “That’s good news then.”

He landed about fifty feet from the MEV. John’s weight caused him to sink a few inches into the regolith. He walked slowly over to the vehicle. Whatever shot it appeared to do a through and through, with the telltale signs of metal bits torn outwards.

John thought that was going to be a pain in the ass to patch, but the kits were rated to repair damage like that. As he walked up to the side of the MEV he opened a panel and pulled a data cable from the port in the left forearm plate.

“Confirmed it is still running. No atmosphere in the livable space. The bridge appears to have atmosphere. Trying to connect to internal communications,” John relayed back to his MEV, “There we go. Hey, anyone in there?”

“Fucking hell finally. Are reinforcements here finally?” an excited yet highly stressed cadet exclaimed.

“Not really. Cadet Lief here. Your probe got zapped, but we have it working again. Going to launch it after I get you patched up.”

“What the hell did we get involved with?” another cadet asked.

“You tell me, did y’all see anything?”

The third cadet spoke up, “We were following the other MEV, but decided to stop to have dinner. When we got underway, we were all on the bridge when we were shot. The doors sealed shut and we’ve been stuck here for the last ten hours. We saw nothing.”

“Well, that’s troubling. Stay safe in there. I’ll have the living quarters patched up.”

“I presume you read all that?”

“Sure did,” Patrice responded, “Can’t say that we liked hearing any of that.”

“Agreed. I’m going to get working on the external patches.”

John got to work immediately and pulled the patch kit from his hip. He activated the maglocks on his suit and crawled up the side to the first bullet hole. He pulled the correct-sized ceramite puck and inserted it with a special holder about four inches into the hole. A button was pressed on the holder which super-heated the puck and caused it to expand and bond to the ceramite around it. This process caused the puck to expand to an inch thick and send out super strong fibers of ceramite.

Those fibers would be exceptionally useful when the void-grade epoxy is used to fill the rest of the hole. John grabbed the injector and electronic activator. The epoxy would expand and harden when a current would run through it.

John repeated this process three more times on the exterior of the MEV. He then entered the wounded vehicle and repeated the process in the interior. As the epoxy cured, he ran diagnostics. Neither of the bullet holes severed any critical components. Two lights and the large screen were destroyed, but otherwise, the interior seemed to be in good shape. He did see all four void sheathes on the ground though.

John leaned his rifle against the wall next to the hallway door. From the wall terminal, he reviewed the diagnostic and then ran an atmospheric test. He was keen to see if the patches would hold. In theory, the puck alone should be enough to contain the atmosphere, but the seven or so inches of super dense and hard epoxy would be added insurance.

He removed his helmet when the interior atmosphere reached nominal levels. He then disengaged the alert status and opened the hallway door. It was a snug fit, but he could move through the vehicle. He opened the bridge door and saw four barely dressed female cadets.

“Cabin is fixed. And the rules were pretty clear that the void-sheathes are to be worn at all times. Had you been wearing them you could’ve fixed the bloody holes yourself,” his demeanor and angry look didn’t win the hearts and minds of the girls, “Get dressed up, then head straight back to the base.”

John turned and headed out of the bridge before they had a chance to say anything. He picked up the rifle and headed to the rear airlock and exited the wounded MEV. When he got outside, he walked to the near side of it and radioed back to his home on wheels.

“They're patched up. Fucking girls got uncomfortable and took their damn void-sheathes off. All four were stuck on the bridge.”

“They were at least smart enough to play dead,” Patrice chided John with that comment.

“Back up and let them go by. Once they pass you fire up the probe.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not coming back immediately?” Andern sounded very concerned.

“Because I’m not, I’m going to get eyes on what’s over that rockface. Something, or someone, is really insistent that no one sees anything. And I’d like to pay them back for their troubles.”

“It’s beyond our paygrade you know,” Patrice said, “We should let the Marines back on the base handle it.”

“I concur, we are only a mile and a half into the jamming field. We can just drive back…”

“Radar contact, unidentified skimmer approaching the MEV,” Patrice shouted.

“Send the probe now, turn back and make your best time. I’ll make them focus on me,” John shouted as he pulled the battle rifle from the small of his back.

“How the hell is a cadet in power armor going to do that?” Richard asked sardonically.

John was already in motion, running towards the skimmer. He pulled the charging handle on the oversized rifle and brought it to bear. The main thruster fired to life and sent him flying towards the enemy. Then three-round bursts of high-explosive rounds were sent at the target.

“The best way I know how,” John grinned in his helmet, “With overwhelming violence.”